Chapter 3: The Dusty Gnome

The Dusty Gnome huddled among other stores, its worn welcome mat a quiet accusation at how long it had been. Sam paused outside, the storefront's peeling paint sending flares of doubt through her resolve. The anticipation broke as they crossed the threshold, the bookstore yawning open like a timeworn secret.

Dust hovered like restless ghosts, and the familiar aroma of aged paper enveloped them. Hank Shaw stood amid the shelves, the years mapping his face like an atlas of stories.

"Never thought I'd see the day," he said, his voice a mix of warmth and the weariness of unwanted change.

He held Sam at arm’s length, reading glasses perched perched on the edge of his nose, before pulling her into an embrace. “Almost didn’t recognize you without your nose in a book.”

Sam laughed, a strained sound, caught between fondness and the discomfort of seeing the past b…